


The Ending You Never Expected

by Mnbella49, Tangledfire



Category: apocalypse - Fandom, core 4, hipsters - Fandom
Genre: Apocalypse, Boston, Creepy, Funny, Hipsters, Weird, but also silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnbella49/pseuds/Mnbella49, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangledfire/pseuds/Tangledfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apocalypse has come but it's not what any one expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... so as an explanation this was my final project for my college writing class this semester and my roommate Mnbella49 decided to write her final project as a reply to mine, seeing as we where in the same class. I hope you all enjoy.

 “The life of a hipster is one with no loyalties, no consistency and no true passion for one thing. A hipster can never have a true love of something in case it is swept up by the normal people of the world.”

 

This is the first time I have had access to a computer in the last six months. Most of the computers are down, and the internet is even harder to find. Thank g̸͇͓̐̍ͣ͐͋͜ǫ̡̙̝͚̊̋̔d͓͉̭̼̘̹͍ͨ̏ͫ̋́͋̿ͬ͠ the power is still on.

 

I am posting this on every site I can possibly think of, Facebook, Tumblr, hell even Myspace!

 

And they are out there.

 

They are the droning, ş̹̤̲̭̗̙̮̮̂ͤ̌ͯ̋̅ͅh̶̢̢̠̻̽͊ͯ̑̀ͬ̚a̼̤͑ͪͨ̇͊ͧ͌ṁ͕̘̳͂̾̕͜͝b̜͈̠̜̦͔̍̄̏ͬͅĺ̰̺̝͙̖͇͍̋͛̋͘î͔̜͔̩̳̰̦̠͉ͯ͜n̵͖ͭͩ̾̐̃ͫ̒ͯ̔́͟g̪̘̯̭͕̱͎͚͖̈́̄̄͜͡ ̷̞̘̲̤͕̱ͦ͂mͧ̊̑ͣͮͨ͐̽̚҉҉̗̬ͅa̶̰̼̙̒ͣ̌̑̈́̾͘s̥̮͚̟̣̥͈̟ͥͤ͒s̨͍̝̩͎̳͊̈̆̎͛̒͑͘͝e̛̫̬̤̟̻̤̙ͦ̋͛̋̚͘͡s̨͈͉̘̠̩̯̪ͮ̍ͦ̍̐͂.

 

I suppose you already know this… if you are reading this, you must be fully aware of what has happened to the world.

 

I never thought it would come to this. When I thought of the end of the world I would think realistically of disease or asteroids, and jokingly of zombie apocalypse.

 

Reality ended up being far, far more ridiculous then anything I could have thought up.

Gǿ  ÐÐÐ,,,,,, ^___ What ĦaPpE  Ne D ?¿?

 

It all started with the rise of hipsters. They started to be a click on my radar when I was in high school, but it wasn’t until I got to college that I really had to interact with them. Course I went to an arts college so they were everywhere.  And we did not get along…

 

When I entered college I was very punk, piercings, leather jackets, and coloured hair. The total opposite of what hipsters liked. I disagreed with them, butted heads, hated and complained about them to anyone who would listen.

 

I hate them even more now.

 

Everything started with some new bill that promoted small businesses. I didn’t care it had nothing to do with me. Slowly over the course of two years I saw more and more little coffee shops emerge and with them came vintage clothing stores, and antique shops. People around me started sporting floppy hats, fake glasses, and Pabst Blue Ribbon.

 

Now, everyone is a hipster. All those masses out there. If I look out the window I can see them, standing on the side walk with coffees in their hands, staring listlessly at the others that shuffle past.

 

I went into hiding the day I saw three hipster girls attack a homeless man, they were screaming about wanting his coat. More and more hipsters began to join in, ripping at the man as he yelled. I watched wide eyed, then ran.

 

I ran until I got into the apartment I shared with my two friends, Melissa and Beverly. They were both out when I arrived, but I was more concerned about turning on the television to see the news.

 

I flicked it on and what I saw was chaos. People were braking in to shops, ripping things apart, screaming.

 

I remember my phone going crazy with messages. Friends were messaging me like crazy. Six hours later, the phones went down. Melissa was the last person I texted, she had been in our college library, hiding in one of the study rooms.

 

Her last message to me said.

 

What the f͙̩̣̃̿͛̆̿u̸̺͚̠͕̰̞̻͗̆ͧ̾̎̓͌c̷̵̙͍͕̞ͩ̔̆̏͆̒͑̔ḱ̠̭̀̚ is going on?

 

I haven’t left the apartment complex. For food I have been raiding the other apartments. I’ll probably run out of food soon.

 

Upon raiding one of the places on the bottom floor I came across two hipsters. When I broke the door down they started screaming at me and tried to grab at me. I killed them both with my sword. I’ve never been so glad for my kendo lessons. 

 

I caved the first one’s head in with a hard slam. She fell, scream gurgling in her throat. The second I hit in the chest, cutting half way through their abdomen. When they fell to the floor their guts spilled out of the large gash in their side, staining their button down shirt.

 

That was the first time I ever k̨̠̦͎͓͔̹ͤͦ̋̽͟͠i̜͓͈̳̠̝̬͕͔̽̽ͭ͟l̵̟̖͕ͫͤ͒͌̈́l̶̴͕̻͈̠͂ͤ͜e̡̖̭ͤͨ̏͗̐̀d̪̟͚̜̭̫̮ͫ̕ a person. It was a lot less difficult then I had thought… But, I don’t even think of them as people any more. After the things I have seen them do, how could I?

 

The third week of the apocalypse I saw another survivor outside; he was stumbling, cloths torn and bloody. I opened my window to call out to him, but just before I spoke a hoard of hipsters came around the side of the building, upon spotting him they broke in to a run. I remember his screams as they ripped him apart. They tore his skin from his bones, wore his intestines as a scarf.  I want to t̛̬̺̞̖͙̞̫̹ͪ͛ͤ̉͒͛ͨͩͬ͡͞h̷̡̺̦͐̇͛̂ͪ̊r̛͚̼͋̐̚ơ̞͈̥̱̬͇̺ͬ̏ŵ̞͇͆͑́͢ ̛̮͓̮̪̆̎ͩ̈́͌̇̋͐͛͝u̧̖̦̦̭̯ͧ̏̊̓̂̈͜͢p̴͇ͦ̅ͯͮͧ͝ wh

 

…<<< SYSTEM ERROR>>>…

///̗̚DĬSCOŋŋECTED̗̚ \\\\\

‗‗‗’Rᴲco₦₦ᴲctᴲd‛‗‗‗

 

I found dog the other day. She, at least I think it’s a she, showed up outside the apartment about a week ago. I took pity and took her in.  I named her Bevorgi, after Beverly.

 

Beverly loved dogs, especially corgis, this Bevorgi isn’t a corgi I think she’s a Malamute, but I honestly have no idea.

 

S̢̡͉͉͓͂̽̀h̸̶͙̟̏ͯ̽̎ͬ͂̎̕ȩ̼̦͉͚̘̂̒ͨ͜͞ ̖̜̳͈͖͕̭͙ͩ̑̇̔̄̎ͦ̒̒i̲̣̭̝̠̦͇̦̾ͩͮ̑ͮ̓͛̕͡s̯͉̺͛̑̕͡ ̷̮̮̗̭̱̞̆͋ͨͬ̽ṁ̡̨̖̗͙̦̟̩̙̅͟y̝̪̫̣̦̣ͥ͢͝ͅ ̧̧̣͕̔̓̔̇̑o̢͕̤̜͑n̙̬ͭ͋̚l̤͕̰̮͍̪͗͗̾̋̊͋ͣ͂ͥ͘y̗̼ͪ̓ͣͭͮͩ̈͐̊͝ ̯͖̫͎̥̝ͭ̓͗͐͘ͅc̡̱͔̮̮̺̣̜̼̜͛̋̾̏͗͒̊ͫ́o͖̟̲͔̥̠ͭ̆m̬͖͖ͪ͞p̲̙̌̓̾͠a͍̳ͣ͆̍͡ṋ̣̯̬̭̬̔̿̈͜ị̛͒̀o̸̼̹͖̠͕̹͖ͥ̄ͬ̋̎ͯ̚͟ṅ͇̥̙̖̲̠̪̈̐ͨ́͝.̠̻͇̼̃̓

 

I… think… I’m losing my mind.

 

¶À¿ÕÕĲƶɟɟɟɟɟɜɜɮɮ...++***######################### ERRRRR

 

I hope that someone is out there. That someone else finds this and reads it and responds.

 

I’m scared and tired. A͕̥͍̗̠̣̖̒͒n̵̴ͪͦ̍̇ͪͭ̇͆͏͇̩̮̩͚̝̠ͅͅd̬̣ͧ̈̏ͣͮ̒ͦ͑ ͓̫̎̄͊̕ͅl̸̻̲̪̖̪͒̎̿̿ͬͅo̝̭͕͙͎̭͆̈́ͬ̓ͮ̊̆̓͗͞ṋ̢̩̬͋͂̾͒̿̅ͨ͟e̷̥̬̫̮̦̞͌͂̉̾̀l͇̖̹̰̠̣̩̪̂ͣ͋ͪ͑̽͌̀̚y̵̴̨̩͎͖̪̰̹̞̳̟̆͌̏.

 

I miss my home. Not this apartment, my home in Colorado, just outside of Denver. I wonder about my parents, about my friends, are there hipsters there too, did they manage to get away?My brother who rejected anything remotely hipster, did he conform? Mom who liked cats and Sherlock, is she now sporting horrible clunky classes? Ivy. My best friend what ha{[UNABLE TO DECODE]} bar.applyMatches(function(each) {if(!condition1) return true;doSomething();if(!condition2) return false;doSomethingElse();return glob();}, function(foo){process(foo)}); 

 

If you are reading this on any site I have put I on please send me a message. I have a router set up in my apartment that should keep the internet running here; I’ll get y̳̾̾ͦ͆̏̄o̳͇͍̬̾̈́͑̅ͩͤ̌̿u̶̫͓͇̰̼̐͟ͅṟ̣̻̩̮͌͊ͨͤ͊̀̀ͅ ͚͈̓͂m̨͚̙̥͊ͬ͌͗̒̋̚͝e̥̠̽̚͘s̨̼̪͔͙̲̀̆̍͊͆̍̏̌͆s̟̭̩͔̩͆͛̄ͪ̌ͣ̐ͣ̓́ạ̸̢̊̍͛̆g͉̠̳̣͓̰̀̋͊͢ḙ̵͔̤̟̹̦̩̆͆̂͝ͅ

 

If you are unճb˩e to leave a meʂʂage, for the next ϻoПth I’ll be on the top of Little Building next to the Boston //Common\\\ at the cross roads of Trem̧̡͔̦̟̖̰̜̋ͬͮ͝o̻͑ͯ̐̏ͪ̑n̘̼̺̤͔͓͕̉̀̋̈́̚͠t and ßoƛlston from 2pm to 6pm.

 

I̷͉̼̫ͩ̇͢͠ͅͅf̴̣̻̼̘̲̻̩̰̜ͨ͂̃ ̨̝̹̳̗̻̮͖̟͍ͦ̄ͨ̎͑̇͑̚ỷ̼̳̝̖̺̦͕͎͗̾ͨ͌̉o̠͉̪͉̖̩ͩ̒̀ͅù̧̡̱͇̫̱͕ͦͪ̒ ̸ͧ̐ͧ̑ͬͪ̐̐̒҉̩̲̖͚̱͔a̷̺̖̽̑̄̉r̷͎̟ͣ͋ė̴̩͕̞ͩ̍̏̀ ̴̥͕͍͎̔̋̊ͦ̌͂́o̦͈͒ͭ͐ͣ̐͂̚uͦ͏̢̪͎̻͈t̷̛̪͇̝̬͇ͬ̅̈́̀̕ ̢̫͍͖̘̗̤̺ͮ͆̃ͤͪ͐͛͌͐̕t͖̻̻͔͎͍͊ͫ̈́͒͟͡h̦̥̿̿ͧ̉̚͝ě̞͇ͣͫ̌̔ͮ͘̕r̛̼̲̥̙͇̿͛ē͔̮̆,̴̹̙͚̟̦̲͆̿̐͑̈̋͛ͨ ̝͕̀ͥ́͞p̶̭͉̲̬̲͓͆l̘̹̖̞̱ͫͯ̀͠͝͡ȇ̤̪̟̝̦̗̼̩̌́̐ͦ͢͢ḁ̼̀̒ͭ̆͗͒͗ͪs̴ͪ̑́̓̋ͮ͠͏̳̰e̢͓̥̰̥̠ͤ͒̅,̯͕͓̹̭ͮ̀ͬ ̸̧̱̫̘͔̮̘͖̈̂̈́͘c̴͗͏̣͎̳͓̮ͅo̼̱̮͎̔ͣ̎ͦͤͭ̈́͞͝ͅm̠̠͖͖̩͕̬̘͌͊̄̀͞ę̶͈̈́ͬ̆̂̏ͫ̍͝ ̲͖̗̬̝̿̋ͭ͢ͅf̷͔̙͉̓͐̋ͤͣͭ̽͡i̵͓͚̙̺̬͒̈̇ͨͥ͡ṇ̟̍̿͡ḑ̵͔̗͓͉̞̠̐̋͆̔̓ ͙̝͚̱̜̔̏̋͗̉͢m͇̐ͮ͑ͮ̒̓̚̚͢ͅe̛͖̟̬̗̗̟ͮͩ̋.̢̝͎͕̗͎̥̼̣ͩ ̦̳͒͊ͧ͋̽͂ͨ͘ 

 


	2. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Mnbella49's chapter. Enjoy!

“This may be a product of how the generation was raised, or it may be something that just happened throughout the years for no apparent reason; but if this generation is to keep the world running, they need to work out these flaws by the time the previous generation expires, or things will keep getting worse for the next generation to have to fix.”

 

I don't know how many days, weeks or months it's been since I've last had contact with anyone. It's a miracle I've found the internet and even more of one that I found your post. I don't know who you are, but I'm so very glad you're still alive. At least I hope you're still alive…

 

As for your friend Beverly, was she last seen near the Boston area? I saved a girl named

 

Beverly just as she was about to be overtaken by some Hipsters near a ***78*99988778899----------*778777788899((((*889*(*&&**999000 Starbucks. #$######$#$##$%%%5555565##%$%%%^7

 

She's been with me for a while now and she keeps telling me about her roommates who she's worried about. If you're her roommate, TF, please, please come to the Downtown area of Boston, we've been hiding out in an abandoned Dunkin Donuts. We've found that the Hipsters stay clear of it.

 

Now you might be asking, 'How can I trust this person? I don't know anything about them or ^^^^what^^^^ they can do.'

 

I could tell you my story, of who I was before all this started. I also went to a film school, and I had to pick my way through the hipsters and avoid them as much as possible. God they were so fucking pretentious and self- righteous. It's hard to say this, and I can barely believe it still, but it almost felt….good when I k͖̟̗̝̣̖̫̬̰̠͉͓i̲͔̜̘̹̪͓͕͍̯͍̟͙̻l͖̥̭̭̦͈̪̪̹l̬̲̠̞͚͍̦̠͉ͅe͙̹̟̹ͅd̞̭̤̱̣̭̦͕̩̪  my first Hipster.

 

I was sitting in my dorm room when I heard screaming outside. I cracked open the door to find them attacking some kid on my floor for his beanie and vintage Nirvana shirt. Their screaming still echoes in my head. “Do you even fucking listen to Nirvana?”

 

I knew I had to make it out of there, so I grabbed my roommates throwing knives and a few other things that I threw into a bag and climbed out the window. Since I was on the third floor which had scaffolding, I got a clear view of the true chaos that had arisen. Hipsters were everywhere, raiding the Starbucks across the street, attacking the homeless shelter for clothes that would fit their “rugged” look.  Cars were being set on fire and spare parts were being turned into warped versions of bikes.

 

I honestly don't know how I made it out of there. I couldn't even tell you how many of them I had to kill. I just remember sitting in an alleyway with my hands, knives and clothes covered in blood. I didn't have anything to wash it off with so I just went with it and hoped that I would blend in with the bloody Hipsters as I tried to find a safe place to stay.

 

My plan worked for a bit, I just shuffled around, pretended to take selfies on my phone, but after a while some of them began to catch on. In my desperate attempt to get away, I grabbed a flannel shirt from my bag and threw it at them. It kept them busy and gave me enough time to get away.

 

By this time I was desperate and trying to think of a place where hipsters wouldn't go. So I made my way down to the nearest Target. Now this was somewhat successful in that Target itself was empty, but the area surrounding Target was filled with Hipsters. I cursed at myself for forgetting that there were colleges nearby along with a Whole Foods. That place is practically a nest for them.

 

I stayed in Target for what seemed like a month, ravaging whatever I could. Thankfully the electricity was still on so I could use their microwaves to heat up food. Just like you, I tried turning on the tv after I hooked it up to a cable box. As images of destruction and despair were displayed on the screen, I realized that this wasn't just a local event. This was happening world wide, even in places where Hipsters weren't even a thing or weren't known by that culture. I had to š̡̠̖̺̬̋̔̓ͦ͟͡t͉̠͓̂́̒̌̈́ȍͫͮ̎̋͏̷̻͇͔̠͍̭̹̣ͅp̡̺̦̹̰ͦ̄ ̸̯͉̖̮̖̩̳͐͗͊͟w̬̣̬̫̬̙͍̿͊̽ͣ̋͢á̷̗͇͎̗̻̱͋́̀t̬̭ͯͣͧ̓̿̚c̝̫̱̠̙̖̖̳̍͂̑̈̒͛̎͠ḫ̵̛̛̌́ͥ̌̓̃̑̚iͦ̐̑̅͒͏̴̠̦͙͉͔̳̹̖n̜͖͐͐͂ͪ͆ͨͮ͢g̶ͮ̐ͫ̌͡͏̦͚̭͖̮̠̘ ͇͚̯ͫ͌ͦ͂ͫ̀ͨ̊̚ị̷͚͎͕̜̻̼̙͋͐̔ͨ̑̎̉̎ͣn̴̩̻̲̘̬̖̗ͬ̌ ͗̔̍́ͯ̃͝ͅô̱̪̪̊͗̎r̨̢͈̼͚̺̻̲͕̖̎͂ͣ̒̓͟d̶̤̗̖͎̥̾ͧ͐ͧ̃̓è̟͔̼̗ͤ͑ͥ̆͆͝r̰̤̺̝̿ͩ  to keep some of my s̠ͨ͆̑̒̽͞a̱̺̰̐̅̀̇̿̕͢͠n̟ͦͦ̓ͣ͐̓͌ͦ͝͠ͅi̗̱͐̔ț̹͎͎͓̈ͪͭͣͮ͑ͦ́ẙ̧̬͉̟̥͕͖̆͗̔ͧ͛̇ͨ͝.

 

A few weeks into my imprisonment at target, someone started scratching at the front door and suddenly I was wishing that I had gone to a Walmart with guns instead. I grabbed a wrench and some of my old knives and walked down to the first floor where the entrance was. Standing on the other side of the glass was a girl about my age dressed as a hipster. But something was different about her. She had life in her eyes and she didn't look like an asshole to me. I raised an infinity scarf that I found a few weeks ago. I had been using it to test the Hipsters to see if they were real people. Usually upon seeing it they'd go crazy banging at the window, but when I raised it up for the girl to see, she scowled at it.

 

Finally I had a companion to help me. She told me her name was Beverly and that she was out looking for her roommate BTF. Apparently she had another roommate who was in the library at the start of all this; it was a cold day and she was wearing a knit sweater so she never made it out alive. Bev, that's what I grew to call her by, told me that TF loved Target for their gluten free stuff and the cheap clothes so she though that this would be where she could find her. So you can understand that she was depressed for a while and didn't have the motivation to go anywhere.

 

After a few months we began to run out of supplies. I would make small treks in the night to the nearby  supermarket, but there were very few nights that I would return unscathed. When my last throwing knife broke, I knew we had to leave and find a better place. So I somehow convinced Bev to come with me, grabbed the sharpest knives I could find, and we began to make our way back toward downtown Boston. Before this all started, it would have taken us thirty minutes to make the trip, but because Boston is a college heavy city, it took us three days to wade through the masses of H͚̱̬͇̒̍ͨ̏̐͌ị̰͙ͥ̄ͬͥp̣̎ͧ̒̓ș̞͔ͧ̂̂ͦ̓͊̚t͇͖̗͇͂ͫ̏̌͂e̍r̪̱̾ͫs͕̦̲.

 

You can say that we still haven't found the right place or the safest place, but we needed to rest so we found an abandoned Dunkin Donuts, the exact opposite of where Hipsters would go. Thankfully the freezer was stocked with food that we could heat up. After a day or two I managed to break into the manager's office. The computer had been left open and with the miracle of all miracles it had internet access and I somehow found you.

 

Please, we could use any kind of h̻̘̖͑̔e̗̦͇l͇̻͇̟̙͍̭̃ͤ͞p͖̣̰̓ ̴̜̲̺͓ͩ̈õ̡̻̮̭ͬͮ͗̾ͤr̦͔͓̞̙̱ ̳̊͠h̶̻͛ͭ͑̂ͦ̈͑o͕͕̒́́̌pė̬̙̼̺̤̥̓̓͆̋ͬ́ . If you're reading this, whether you're TF or not, please, we just need to see another human being. We need the kind of strength to get out of the city and into the more rural areas where there's less chance of there being Hipsters.

 

And whoever you are, we need you to hurry. As I'm typing this, I can hear them banging on the front doors. Starbucks must have run out of coffee and now they're angry and desperate. We don't have much time until they break in and we have to go into hiding somewhere else. And who knows if I'll ever find the internet again?

 

So please, come. We'll try and wait as long as possible but if we can't keep them from // Specify PROPID_QM_MACHINE_ID.
    
    
      CLSID guidMachineId;                                // Computer GUID buffer
      aQMPropId[cPropId] = PROPID_QM_MACHINE_ID;          // Property ID
      aQMPropVar[cPropId].vt = VT_CLSID;                  // Type indicator
      aQMPropVar[c

 

Don't look back, don't slow down, and never look them in the eye. They're ruthless and they're willing to kill you to get their hands on anything they can. Don't bother coming here anymore. We'll find you somehow. We can fix this, and save this world. Í͑̅͏̞̼̭̟̣͉'̸̱͎̣̲̻̗̄̍̇̉͘v̵̵͔͖̱̔͆͗̑͂ͧͮͧͩe̩̰̿ͫͩ̅̐̃̕ ̧͍͎̞͂̽̏̓ͦ̈́͛͑̕͜g͍͓̙̗͕͚͚̦̤̃ͣó̈̀ͯ̂ͪͨ҉̹̦̺t͈͈͎̖̐̓̊ ̡̡̯͙̺̹̗̺̜̮ͮ͒ͮ̋̿̕tͩ́̃ͬͯ̌҉̛̭͈̼̼ȏ̳͚͇͇̰̃̈́͊̋̇̆̋ ̢̤̲͓̟̩̾̑̀g͆̅̈̀͟҉̥͎̜o̮̺̥͙͖ͧ̂͞,̻̺̺̹̝̀̆̑́͘ ͭ̒͐ͧ̌͑͏̼͙̞͝ͅb͈̩̱͐ͬ͂ͦ̈̿̃͆͢͡u̜͕̖̙̪̘̣̅̀͘ͅt̗̝͌̇͐͗ͮ̊͠ ̠̜̹̃̓ͦr̢͔̣̮̦̍͐̿̄̑̔̽e̝̠͚ͮ͌ͪ́̐ͦ̄ͭm͍̬̖̙̪̣̫̰̗̂ͦ͋̄e̸̠̙̺̠ͫ̓ͮ͌̾̉̈̋̀m̶̷̹͎̹̺͈̠͖͎ͤ͑̋̊ͣb̄̀ͧͩͥ̏̏҉̶̝̜͇͇̰̩̠̫ě̸ͫ̐̍ͪ͒̇ͨ͆҉̼͕̘͈͓r̹͛ͅͅ ̺͕͓̰̜͈̦̆ͨť̺̩ͭ̀h̶̜̹͖̥̫̭̦ͬͤͮͯ̕̕a̫̓ͧ̆̕tͧ̄͗͐͞͏̹̺̯̰͔̘͈ͅ


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